The Hampstead Mystery eBook

But it was more a spirit of idle curiosity than anything
else that brought Rolfe to Crewe’s chambers
in Holborn an hour later. Having secured the
murderer, he felt curious as to what Crewe’s
feelings were on his defeat. It was the first
occasion that he had been on a case which Crewe had
been commissioned to investigate, and he was naturally
pleased that Inspector Chippenfield and he had arrested
the author of the crime while Crewe was all at sea.
It was plain from the fact that the latter had thought
it necessary to visit Scotland that he had got on a
false scent. It was not Scotland, but Scotland
Yard that Crewe should have visited, Rolfe said to
himself with a smile.

Crewe, in pursuance of his policy of keeping on the
best of terms with the police, gave Rolfe a very friendly
welcome. He produced from a cupboard two glasses,
a decanter of whisky, a siphon of soda, and a box
of cigars. Rolfe quickly discovered that the cigars
were of a quality that seldom came his way, and he
leaned back in his chair and puffed with steady enjoyment.

“Then you are determined to hang Birchill?”
said Crewe, as with a cigar in his fingers he faced
his visitor with a smile.

“We’ll hang him right enough,” said
Rolfe. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and
looked at it approvingly. Though the talk was
of hanging, he had never felt more thoroughly at peace
with the world.

“It will be a pity if you do,” said Crewe.

“Why?”

“Because he’s the wrong man.”

“It would take a lot to make me believe that,”
said Rolfe stoutly. “We’ve got a
strong case against him—­there is not a weak
point in it. I admit that Hill is a tainted witness,
but they’ll find it pretty hard to break down
his story. We’ve tested it in every way
and find it stands. Then there are the bootmarks
outside the window. Birchill’s boots fit
them to the smallest fraction of an inch. The
jemmy found in the flat fits the mark made in the
window at Riversbrook, and we’ve got something
more—­another witness who saw him in Tanton
Gardens about the time of the murder. If Birchill
can get his neck out of the noose, he’s cleverer
than I take him for.”

Crewe did not reply directly to Rolfe’s summary
of the case.

“I see that they’ve briefed Holymead for
the defence,” he said after a pause.

“A waste of good money,” said the police
officer. Something appealed to his sense of humour,
for he broke out into a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Crewe.

“I was wondering how Sir Horace feels when he
sees the money he gave this girl Fanning being used
to defend his murderer.”

“You are a hardened scamp, Rolfe, with a very
perverse sense of humour,” said Crewe.

“It was a cunning move of them to get Holymead,”
said Rolfe. “They think it will weigh with
the jury because he was such a close friend of Sir
Horace—­that he wouldn’t have taken
up the case unless he felt that Birchill was innocent.
But you and I know better than that, Mr. Crewe.
A lawyer will prove that black is white if he is paid
for it. In fact, I understand that, according
to the etiquette of the bar, they have got to do it.
A barrister has to abide by his brief and leave his
personal feelings out of account.”